


Bishop & Moira

by cheers_mrhiddleston



Series: The Hiddleston Twins [5]
Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Fluff, Multi, Mutual Pining, Pining, Slow Burn, dad feels, the Hiddleston twins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-07 16:13:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16857217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheers_mrhiddleston/pseuds/cheers_mrhiddleston
Summary: One shots and drabbles featuring the characters Elliot Bishop and Moira Courtney (and Izzy too) from the Hiddleston Twins universe. Published in chronological order but can be read as standalone.





	1. A Little Bit of Christmas Cheer

**Author's Note:**

> Theo James is the faceclaim for Bishop, and Alicia Vikander is Moira. 
> 
> Originally published on Tumblr, check out the OG fic and more about the twins at the-hiddleston-twins.tumblr.com  
> By Madison (cheers-mrhiddleston.tumblr.com) and Christine (teacuphiddlesfics.tumblr.com)

## A Little Bit of Christmas Cheer

Bishop turned up his nose at the sound of Christmas music loitering in the office. It was just after five, and most of the non cartel employees would be making their way home and he would have his favourite moment of the day. Pure silence. At least, as close to silence as he could get. And it wasn’t the time of day for Christmas music, of all things.

Grumbling, Bishop stormed down the hallways until he discovered where the music was coming from. But his intentions of demanding the noise be turned off diminished the closer he got to the office at the end of the hallway. Giggling and laughter met his ears and he sighed. No, he really couldn’t demand anything anymore.

“Bissop!”

He struggled not to smile as the two and a half year old girl came bounding over to him, nearly tripping over her own two feet as she ran into his legs, staring up at him with that impish little grin. It was nearly enough to him fall to his knees. Nearly, that is.

“Hi, little one.”

“Bissop, up!” Izzy demanded in a firm voice, arms already displayed.

He chuckled as he lifted her with ease, placing her on his hip. “Are you being a good little girl for you mum?”

“Mumma and I are singin’.”

Moira snorted from where she sat at her desk, packing up her things. “I wouldn’t exactly call it singing.”

His lips twitched but he didn’t comment. “Taking this one home?”

“Nooooooooo.” Izzy shook her head, her blonde hair flying everywhere. “Mumma and me are goin’ skatin’.”

“Is that so?”

“I can’t skate very well.” Izzy grew serious, her eyes growing to wide saucers. “Will I fall, Bissop? I don’t wanna fall.”

“Your mum won’t let you fall, kid.” Either in skating, or in life, Bishop wanted to say. He glanced in Moira’s direction, and as if knowing what he was thinking, her cheeks grew rosy and she quickly looked away. He didn’t know what she had to be embarrassed about. She was a good mother. A protector. She was willing to do whatever it took for her little girl, and he had a lot of respect for that.

“Bissop will you come us us?”

Bishop was snapped out of his thoughts by the little girl’s request. “Uh…”

“I’m sure Bishop is very busy, baby.” Moira moved around the desk, bag over her shoulder and coats in hand. “He has a lot of work to do and then he’s going to want to go home and have a nice dinner.”

“But we’re gonna eat, Mumma. Bissop can eat with us!” Izzy nodded in declaration, as if making the decision was that easy.

“I, uh.” He looked between Izzy and Moira, not knowing what to say. It wasn’t the first meal request Izzy had offered him. And usually her demands worked.

“I’m sure he has his own plans, honey.”

Izzy’s face fell as she nodded, a small pout forming on her lips. There was a heaviness in his chest seeing that look on her face, that sheer disappointment. God, how had a small little girl wrapped him around her finger? Sighing, he shifted Izzy until she was looking at him.

“If your mum doesn’t mind, I’d like that.”

Her face immediately brightened, a grin growing on her face as she twisted to plead with her mother.

“Please Mumma pleeeeeease!”

Moira sent him a questioning stare, making sure he didn’t mind. He nodded his head, his lips turned upwards in a small smile. Her own smile crossed her face as her shoulders relaxed. \she hated disappointing izzy even more than he did.

“We’d love to have you.”

“I’ll have to stop off at home to let Rook out and feed him. I can meet you -”

“Puppy! I wanna see the puppy!” Izzy started bouncing on his hip. “Pleeeeease Bissop! Please I wanna meet your puppy.”

Bishop pulled a face at her hopeful eyes. The girl was good. Damn her.

“Rook isn’t a puppy, squirt. He’s nearly as big as your Mum.”

“Pleeeeease!”

He looked over at Moira, raising an eyebrow. She had met Rook previously, knew just how large the black german shepherd was. But Moira was just smiling and nodded, and he knew she was completely aware his supposed guard dog was a giant teddy bear when he wanted to be. Which was more often than he’d like.

“Alright, we’ll go stop off to see Rook. We can take my car, if you’d like.”

Izzy started squirming to get down and he set her on her feet. She started gabbing away about meeting Rook, shoving her arms into the coat Moira handed her. Bishop struggled not to chuckle at her excitement. She was a burst of life, something that even he admitted they needed around the office sometimes.

“We’ll need Izzy’s car seat.”

Bishop nodded as he motioned them all out of the office. “We’ll grab it first then.”

As Izzy darted forward towards the elevators, Moira walked closely next to Bishop. “You know, you don’t have to come with us. Skating isn’t exactly your thing. Iz will understand.”

“It’s fine, Moira,” he assured. “I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure, because -”

“Hey.” He stopped her, tilting her chin up. “You know me well enough that if I don’t want to do something, then I won’t. I’m good.”

Her eyes twinkled as she nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

“We better catch up before she has a fit,” Moira giggled as they watched Izzy tap her foot impatiently as she stared up at the elevator call button she couldn’t quite reach.

“Mumma hurry, we need to see the puppy!”

* * *

Izzy was at Bishop’s front door the moment Moira freed her from her car seat. Moira chuckled as she watched her daughter bounce up and down. All she had been talking bout for weeks since finding out about Rook was meeting him. Bishop had been so concerned about how big Rook was compared to the little girl, but Moira knew the worse the dog would do was lick her face to death. He was a giant fluff ball when he was given attention. He was a little like Bishop in a way, though much easier to come around than the big grump.

But as she watched Bishop walk up beside Izzy, kneeling down beside her and whispering to her, she couldn’t help but think Bishop wasn’t as hard and terrifying as he believed himself to be. Nearly from the start he had been sweet to her daughter, even when she wouldn’t leave the poor guy alone, always attached to him whenever Moira brought her into the office. He never seemed to mind her attention, and Izzy flourished with it.

“Mummaaaaa!” Izzy called impatiently.

Moira snickered and hurried towards the front door, pulling Izzy up against her as Bishop unlocked the door.

“Just as we talked about, okay Iz?”

“‘Kay.” She bounced on her feet, trying to look around him for the giant dog.

“Rook, here!”

It took only a moment before Rook came bounding around the corner, ears up and alert as he eyed the humans besides his owner. But it was nearly an instant recognition when he spotted Moira, Rook’s tongue hanging out as his tail started wagging.

“Oh my god the puppy!”

Izzy slowly inched forward, grabbing onto the back of Bishop’s legs as she grew closer to the dog. Rook, not used to children, tilted his head and watched the little girl approach him. He sniffed the air as Bishop motioned for izzy to hold out her hand for him to sniff.

“Just like that, Iz. Let him get your scent.”

Rook shuffled forward, sniffing her hand before giving her a big lick. Izzy giggled as Rook continued to lick her.

“Ewwwwww gross!” She started petting him while looking up at Bishop. “Can I hug him Bissop? Please?”

Bishop’s face contorted and Moira couldn’t help but laugh. So much for that guard dog he insisted Rook was.

“Yeah, Izzy, just be…” he rolled his eyes when she threw herself as Rook barked in excitement, his tail going crazy as he tried to lick at her face. “Careful. Jesus, he’s supposed to attack, not lick.”

Moira pats his chest. “I’m sure he’s a good attack dog when he needs to be.”

They stood and watched as Rook laid down and rolled onto his back, pawing at Izzy until she started rubbing his belly.

“It’s getting worse,” Bishop groaned.

“We’re gonna be the bestest friends,” Izzy decided with a nod. “He’s so big and soft! Bissop, I love him.”

“He’s pretty partial to you too, squirt.”

“Can he come skatin? Can puppies skate? We can get him puppy skates.”

Moira thought about sneaking her phone out to take a photo of the look on Bishop’s face, but knew the man would only get grumpier. “Dogs can’t skate, baby. But why don’t you help Bishop let him out and feed him.”

Izzy’s eyes widened as Rook popped up at the mention of food. “Okay!”

Izzy was listening intently as Bishop let her help take care of Rook. Her little face lit up whenever Rook would steal a kiss, only for Bishop to shoo Rook out the door and into the backyard. When it came time to feed him, Izzy begged for Bishop to let her carry the bag that weighed more than she did, so he gave her a little scoop of the dog food instead. Rook just sat and watched aptly until Bishop whistled him over.

“Bissop?” Izzy tugged on his pants while Rook was busy eating. “Why don’t you have a tree? Where will Santa put your presents?”

Moira muffled a laugh. Bishop’s jaw dropped, his eyes growing wide. Izzy stared up at him with those innocent eyes, so curious. She always had been, always wanting to everything she could. Moira worried at times it would get too much for Bishop or the twins to deal with, especially at work. But they never shooed Izzy away, always taking the time to answer her however they could. Bishop, however, looked completely lost this time.

“I, uh, don’t really get presents from Santa, Iz.”

She gasped. “But why not?”

“We’re, uh, not the greatest of friends.”

Her forehead crinkled. “Are you on the naughty list, Bissop? Mumma says I have to be good so I can be on the nice list. Don’t you wanna be on the nice list?”

Moira, feeling bad for the poor guy, stepped forward. “You know, we should probably get going so we can grab a bite to eat and head to the rink.”

“Uh, right. Yes. We should do that.”

But Izzy wasn’t so easily swayed. “Where will the puppy’s present go?”

“Ummmmm.”

“You need a tree, Bissop. Mumma can we get Bissop a tree?”

“Bishop might not want a tree, baby.”

“Where will I put my present for him?”

Moira started to explain that not everyone celebrates Christmas like they did, but Bishop jumped in before she could.

“Yeah, we’ll get a tree, Izzy.”

“Really? Oh good! You’ll be on the nice list then.”

With one last hug and kiss goodbye to Rook, Izzy was settled back in her car seat, waiting for Bishop and Moira to climb into the car.

“We don’t have to get you a tree.” Moira’s cheeks flushed. “She’s just so excited about christmas, and she’s starting to understand it more this year and -”

“It’s fine.” He shrugged. “The place could do with some decorating.”

“But- ”

“Do you want to tell her we’re not going to get a tree?” he raised an eyebrow with a smirk. When Moira sighed and shook her head, a smile playing at her lips, he held open the door and motioned her in. “Then that’s settled.”

“You’ll actually have to take care of it.” Moira pointed out.

“I can take care of a damn plant.”

“It’s a bit bigger than a plant.”

* * *

“What if I fall?” Izzy squeezed Moira’s hand as they stood at the entrance of the rink. “Mumma I don’t wanna do it.”  
  


“I won’t let you fall, sweetheart, I promise.” Moira squeezed her hand. “I’ll be holding onto you the entire time.”

Izzy sniffed, still unsure. “Bissop too?”

Moira looked up and caught Bishop’s nod. “Bishop too.”

“…’kay.” Izzy held her hand out for Bishop, who hesitated for only a moment.

Slowly, they walked out onto the ice, Izzy squeezing both hands tightly. Bishop moved awkwardly, not remembering the last time he was ice, even just in shoes like he was that night. Moira was graceful as ever, the dancer in her taking to the ice well. He was sure if he was in skates too, he’d be even worse than Izzy. Clenching his jaw, he reminded himself why he was doing this. He hated all the people hovering about, getting in their way. The christmas music and decorations being shoved down their throats. He wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this if it hadn’t been for these two.

But the little girl between him and Moira was giggling and having the time of her life, and he knew exactly why he couldn’t just let go and sulk back home. He tried not to get involved, to care, but Izzy had been too bright of a girl to leave him alone. She was relentless, and at some point, he had just come to accept her being around, to being attached to him. He was a heartless monster with a temper that shouldn’t be messed with. He should have nothing to do with the kindness of Moira and Izzy. But both of them refused to let him get sucked into his own head. It was infuriating and annoying. And he could never hate them for it.

“Mumma, I see my friend, can I go play?” Izzy, who was already bored with skating, was pointing to outside the rink.

After leaving Izzy under the watch of another set of parents, Bishop could see Moira itching to go back out onto the ice.

“Go on.” He nodded.

“Only if you come with.”

“I’ll only slow you down.”

“Oh come on, don’t be a coward.” she grinned at him, knowing him well enough to know that one little word would light a fire under his ass.

Narrowing his eyes, Bishop muttered a curse before letting her drag him back onto the dreaded ice. Releasing his hand, Moira moved like the dancer she was, twisting and turning with ease. He could see her hesitance at times, however, her forehead crinkling when she moved a bit too much on her leg. Bishop wanted to kill her ex for what he had done, for what he had taken from her. Dancing had been her life, her dream, and he had ripped it away from her. Oh how he’d love to get his hands on that bastard again.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Moira skated up next to him.

“Nothing for you to worry about, Moira.”

Her head tilted to the side but she didn’t pry. Smiling, she went to make another turn, but her balance wavered and her body started to slip backwards. Without hesitance Bishop reached for her waist, losing his own footing on the ice and falling. With a grunt, he fell flat on his back, Moira falling straight on him, his arms still wrapped tightly around her waist.

“Fuck,” he grumbled, wincing at the sharp pain running down his back. That was going to hurt in the morning.

“Oh god, are you okay?” Moira’s eyes were wide as she moved her hands over his chest, checking for injury. “I’m sorry. Shit, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” he grit his teeth together. “You good?”

“I’m fine, you’re the one who…” she trailed off as he lifted his head to get a better look at her. Their noses were nearly touching, their cold breaths mingling together. Moira’s cheeks reddened as she bit her lip before trying to get off of him. “I should, right, I’ll just…”

With a few jabbed elbows and knees, they both managed to get back on their feet. Bishop cleared his throat as he scratched the back of his neck, looking over to where Izzy was waving at them.

“We should, uh, probably go.”

“Right. You’re right.” Moira nodded, already skating across the rink.

“Bloody hell.”

* * *

“Not this one.” Izzy shook her head as they moved down the aisle of chopped Christmas trees. “No. No. No. Noooooo.”

Bishop shuffled along after her, his hands stuffed into his pockets as he counted down the minutes until he was back home alone with Rook. Not that he wanted to get rid of Izzy, but the moment at the rink hadn’t been his finest and he needed the night to be over with already.

“What about this one, Iz?” Moira nodded at a short but wide tree.

Izzy inspected it, tapping her chin. For a moment he thought she would shake her head and move on, but instead she declared it perfect and was already wandering over to the other Christmas merchandise near the cashier. Nodding at the associate nearby for help, Bishop followed the little girl to pay.

“Bissop, look! Look! Rook needs one!”

He raised an eyebrow and nearly choked when he found Izzy pointing to a rack of Christmas dog costumes. “Uh, I don’t think Rook would like that, kid.”

She stared at him as if he knew absolutely nothing. “He wants one, he told me so.”

“He probably wouldn’t keep it on for very long.”

“He wants to be an elf. To help santa.” She picked up an elf hat, holding it out for him. “See? It’s what Rook wants, Bissop. It is.”

And how the hell was he supposed to say no to that? So with a sigh, he agreed, and purchased both the tree and the elf hat for his poor dog. Rook was going to hate him. Then again, the damn dog had been letting him down as a guard dog. Serves him right.

“Bissop?”

“Yeah, iz?”

“I’ll tell Santa you should be on the nice list, ‘kay?”

“Sure, iz.”

“‘Kay. Then you’ll get all the toys.” She started yawning. “Rook too.”

Moira walked up behind Izzy and picked her up, the little girl laying her head on her mother’s shoulder. “I think it’s time to call it a night. And you really didn’t need to get a tree, you know.”

Bishop shrugged. “Maybe a certain someone can help me decorate it.”

Moira smiled. “I think she’d like that.”

“Good.”

“Thank you for coming with us, Elliot. It meant the world to Izzy.”

He couldn’t stop the smile as he watched the little blonde mumble and burrow herself closer to Moira. “I surprisingly didn’t have a bad time.”

“You know, you should come over on Christmas. Unless you have somewhere else -”

“I have no where else, Moira. But I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’d never be intruding.”

He held her gaze for a long moment before nodding. “Then I think I’ll take you up on that.”

Her smile widened. “Good.”

Maybe he could stomach Christmas this year after all.


	2. Cinder-Moira

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bishop really, really hates having to attend the annual Hiddleston Corporations Gala, until he finds someone to pass the time with.

## Cinder-Moira

Bishop felt entirely out of place in a tuxedo.

Having grown up in hand-me-downs and thrift store pickings, and later rags from his days on the streets, he still wasn’t completely adjusted to the smooth, manicured suits he wore into Browning’s offices on a daily basis. But the silk bowtie around his neck was just too constricting for his taste.

There were also far, far too many people. Far too many dressed like him, who would probably stick their noses up if they even guessed that Bishop wasn’t apart of their normal ranks. The fall Hiddleston Corporations Gala was one of the last places he really wanted to be. But he wasn’t in the habit of saying no to his boss, Thomas, and it working out well in his favor. He and Preston were at the event as glorified bodyguards, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t indulge in a few of the free drinks throughout the night.

A vision in silver appeared at his side, and Amanda smiled up at him with bright red lips.

“Elliot I’m so happy you’re here!” she chirped, grabbing at his hand.

He tried to give her a small smile. “Makes one of us, dove.”

“Not enjoying my party, Bishop?” William strode into view, hooking his arm around Amanda’s waist. “We thought the black and white theme would be something classic.”

Bishop fought to keep his eyes from rolling. Amanda wasn’t in black or white, he noticed, but he guessed that any exceptions could be made for the girlfriend of both the company owner as well as a drug lord. “I enjoy the booze.”

William shrugged. “Can’t say I blame you. I won’t say it doesn’t help.”

Amanda continued to beam up at him. “Save a dance for me, Elliot? Please?”

“Not really my scene, Amanda.”

“Oh come on, just one dance.”

William tugged at her waist. “Best not test him, love.” He kissed the top of her head as she pouted. “Come on, let’s go find Thomas.”

“He’s at the bar, on the left,” Bishop said reflexively. It was his job to keep tabs on his boss and friend, and if it helped get William further away from him, it was all the better.

The twin muttered a thanks as he pulled Amanda in the direction of the bar, and Bishop dug his hands into the pockets of his new trousers.

The night dragged on listlessly, with William giving some sort of speech at one point, but he found the speakers almost too loud wherever he tried to stand. He was utterly, completely, out of his element, and he itched to play with the small knife he had hidden underneath his sock to alleviate some of the boredom.

He spied Thomas engaged in conversation with a woman, and his eyes narrowed when he casually touched her arm and laughed. A few steps closer and he couldn’t quite make out her face, but the short, tight, long sleeved black dress she wore was the complete opposite of what Amanda had been wearing. He was only feet away when Thomas finally turned away, and the woman’s eyes found his.

It was Moira.

Bishop nearly faltered. Her hair, usually atop her head in a bun or clip, fell across her shoulders in long, loose waves. He had no idea it was even that long. Her face looked different, if minimally, and he realized that she must be wearing make up.

She was so… tiny.

He’d never fully understood how petite she was. She always wrapped herself in loose clothing, donning huge sweaters or cardigans over whatever she wore, even in summers. But this dress… her past as a dancer suddenly made complete sense to him.

He swore he could hear her heels click as she made her way towards him, and he found himself rooted to the spot as she smiled with pearly teeth.

“Elliot, I didn’t know you were coming,” she said, her voice clear over the party sounds around them. Her delicate fingers fiddled with a flute of champagne in her hands, her nails painted a matte black to match her dress. “You’re probably ‘security’ tonight, aren’t you? I’m sorry about that. Thomas invited me as his plus one, since I think William brought Amanda as his.”

“I, um,” Bishop said with a swallow. “I didn’t know you were coming, either.”

“Well, I figured a night out wouldn’t hurt. So fancy, isn’t it?” She giggled, and Bishop chuckled nervously. “Definitely not my normal outing.”

“Mine either,” he admitted. He couldn’t stop looking at her, at the small curves of her sides and the way her dress accentuated her bust and neck. A small, sparkly diamond necklace fell between her collarbones, and he was fascinated at the different shades of brown evident in her hair.

She noticed his scrutiny and smiled skyly. “Elliot?”

He furrowed his brows and brought his brown eyes back to hers. “Sorry, it’s…” he shook his head, unsure what to say. “You look, um, so…”

“So what?” she asked, amused when he trailed off for a few moments.

“So… tiny.”

Her smile was so wide as she laughed. “Tiny? I’m always tiny, Elliot.”

Suddenly embarrassed, Bishop started mumbling. “I, I, I know, but – you – and –”

She sipped her champagne with a grin. “It’s okay, Elliot.” She stepped even closer to him, and his nostrils flared with uncertainty. “You look pretty… big.” She patted his arm before walking off to join the masses of people by the dance floor.

He stared at her in awe until she faded into the jumble of black and white.

The flash of silver was at his side again, gripping his stiff arm. “Oh, was that Moira?” Amanda asked in a voice that led Bishop to believe she already knew the answer. “I’ve been meaning to say hello to her.”

“Yeah.”

“Doesn’t she look gorgeous?” she asked, staring up at her boyfriend’s right hand man.

He rolled his eyes. Amanda kept seeing things that weren’t there, trying to drop him hints about Moira’s likes and dislikes, her favorite restaurants or movies. She was a romantic, and while he knew Thomas put up with it, it was the one thing about the little dove that came close to annoying him.

“Elliot?”

“She looks so tiny.”

She giggled, and leaned her head closer to him. “You should ask her to dance.”

Bishop blanched, pulling away to look down at her. “What?”

“You should ask her to dance,” she repeated calmly.

“Dance?”

“Yes, dance. Like what I’ve been doing with the twins? What I asked you to do earlier?” A smirk was plastered on her red lips. “Unless… you want William to snatch her up.”

“William?”

“Mhm. He’s been eyeing her all night. I ought to be jealous, the way she’s captured his attention.”

He instantly sobered. A part of his mind knew that she was probably working him, but the rest of it suddenly had a strong urge to dance with Moira, if only to see the look on the Little Hiddleston’s face.

“Excuse me then, dove,” he said gruffy before pulling out of her grip, storming off into the crowd where Moira had disappeared.

He found her chatting, to his disgust, William, in front of the makeshift stage. When William caught sight of him, he glared at him and revelled in how the twin’s expression changed to perplexed. Before he could approach him to say a few choice words, however, Moira took her leave from him and turned around to walk away.

Without thinking he grabbed at her arm, though he hated himself as she instantly jumped at the unexpected touch.

“Oh, Elliot.” She shook it off and smiled yet again.

“Dance?” Fuck, he needed to reword that. “I mean, do you dance?” Not that either. “Do you want to dance?”

Her cheeks flushed despite being hidden by some of her hair. “Dance?”

So much of that word tonight, Bishop thought. “Yes. With me. Dance with me.”

She crossed her arms, sizing him up. “I’m impressed. I didn’t know you could dance.”

He realized that she was right; he couldn’t dance. He had forgotten that part. “I, uh, don’t, actually.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “Well, lucky for you, big guy, I know a few things.” She held her hand out expectantly. “Granted, I used to be more of a ballerina, but I took a few classes to branch out.”

He hesitated before placing his large hand in hers, and she pulled him further into the crowds.

“Alright, put one hand here…” she brought his hand to the curve of her waist, and Bishop gulped. He remembered that one Christmas when she had fallen on him at the ice rink; she weighed next to nothing. He could crush her if he touched her too hard. So delicate, like a ballerina figurine one might keep on a desk. It worried him, being so close to her.

“And… I’ll take this one,” she finished with a smile as she intertwined her fingers with his out to their side. He could practically feel the small bones in her hand. his large fingers swallowing her own. Her other arm came to rest on his shoulder, and his bowtie felt even more constricting than it had. “Now we just -” she cut herself off with a giggle, “move in circles.”

A corner of his lips twitched up. “Is that the technical term, Miss Courtney?”

She nodded but couldn’t stop her giggles. “Yep. Trust me, I was a dancer.”

Her feet started moving, and he tried to match her, wary of his steps so close to her, not wanting to cause her to trip. Everything about him completely dwarfed her, and he didn’t know why he was suddenly so acute to it.

“God you’re so tiny.” Bishop heard himself whisper, and he cursed himself in his head.

But still, Moira kept grinning up at him. He thought that the deep red color on her lips really suited her complexion. “You said that already.”

“I know, I just…” he sighed as they started to turn towards the other side of the ballroom. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I know I’m tiny.” Her eyes raked over him, as if in assessment, and he furrowed his brows in confusion. “But,” she brought her eyes to his, “maybe you’re just a giant.”

He cocked his head to the side, fighting a small on his lips. “I am not.”

“Are too,” she shot back.

He shook his head, unconsciously moving the hand on her waist to rest on the small of her back.

“But don’t worry,” she said. “You’re not a very scary giant.”

“Now, I take offense to that. I can be very scary.”

“Sure, Elliot, sure,” she teased, and he realized she had gotten closer to him, and he nearly faltered.

Moira noticed. “I’m not made of glass, Elliot. I won’t break if you touch me.”

It should have troubled him that she seemingly read his mind, but instead something akin to relief flooded over him. A reassurance that she was just as strong on the outside as he knew her to be on the inside.

“Well,” he said with a low voice, “if you say so.” He used his hand on her back to almost shove her closer to him, and her chest was flush against the buttons of his damned tuxedo.

The action elicited another giggle from her as the song over the too loud speakers turned slower. Without thinking, the thumb on the small of her back started moving back and forth over the smooth fabric of her dress.

They slowed their circling in time to the music, and Moira looked up at him with a curious look. “You’re better at this than you let on.”

“I promise it’s all you,” he responded, and her gaze dropped to his bowtie as she bit her bottom lip.

“I think it’s a little bit you,” she said in almost a whisper. Her lifted her eyes again. “You’re more than just the attack dog you let everyone else believe you are.”

The idea of Moira seeing so far through him made him slightly uneasy. How had he really not put her off in the way he did everyone else, not just at Browning, but throughout most of his life? Did she not know that he rallied against Thomas hiring an unknown pregnant woman in the first place, three years ago? Or maybe she did, and had forgiven him for some unknown reason. He didn’t like either of those options, however.

“Careful there, Moira,” he grunted. “Can’t go ‘round trying to expose me like that. I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

“Ah yes, Bishop the Bulldog.” The fact that she knew of the nickname some of the cartel distributors called him made me pause.

“How -”

“Oh come on, you think people at Browning don’t use it to? Thomas Hiddleston, the Devil, and his right hand man, Bishop the Bulldog. You know one, you know the other.”

He couldn’t help but take away a little pride at that admission.

“Can I tell you a secret though?” she asked with wide eyes, and stood on her tiptoes to get closer to his ear. “Bulldogs aren’t attack dogs.”

“Well, I can’t help what other people call me.” He turned his head to look at her, and he tried not to think about the way the feel of her breath made the hair his neck stand on end. “As long is it’s Bishop, and not… the other name, it doesn’t bother me.”

“Hm.” She studied him, her brown eyes flickering over his features, the patchy stubble he hadn’t bothered to shave for the night. “I can stop calling you that, if it really bothers you.”

The sincerity in her voice struck something in him. “No, it’s alright. I don’t mind it when you say it.” He meant it; it didn’t bother him like it did with so many others.

“If you say so,” she repeated his jest from earlier, but didn’t get off her tiptoes. Silence ticked as seconds passed, and he swallowed when she started, “Elliot –”

A sudden thunder of applause made her fall back on her feet, and he reluctantly relaxed his grip on her as they turned their attention towards the stage, where the band was taking bows as they began to pack up their equipment.

Moira released his hand to add her own couple of claps with a smile. “I suppose that’s the end of the night then,” she said shyly, tucking some hair behind her ear when the applause died down.

“I, I can drive you home,” Bishop said quickly.

“Oh thank you, honestly, but, um,” she bit her lip again, “Thomas hired me a car, actually. I wouldn’t want to put you out of your way. You don’t have to.”

“I -”

“Really, it’s okay. I should get home to Izzy, I’m sure the sitter is tired too.” She smiled at him sadly before placing a hand back on his arm. “Thank you for the dance, Elliot. Really. We should do it again at the next gala.” She winked, and before he could grab her wrist to keep her from leaving, she was gone in the sea of black tuxedos.

He didn’t like watching her leave him.

“Better keep an eye out; maybe she’ll lose a shoe,” Amanda’s voice cooed next to him.

His head whipped around to find her, studying her. “How do you keep finding me that fast?”

“Nevermind that, I told you to keep an eye out.” She grinned wickedly. “Wouldn’t want to miss your chance to be Prince Charming.”

Bishop sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets again. “I’m in no way Prince Charming. Nor will I ever be,” grumbled at her.

“You’re like Thomas, Elliot. You think too little of yourself.”

He scoffed with a smirk. “Thomas, think too little of himself? We must not work for the same man.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know him as a friend too,” she said, her voice soothing him. “Don’t keep yourself from happiness out of some sort of misplaced penance, Elliot. It doesn’t just hurt you.”

His jaw fell open, wondering how the hell these women kept getting inside his mind. He didn’t like it one bit. “I’m fine, dove.” He turned his head back up, catching a last glance at Moira exiting the large ballroom doors. “I’m fine.”

Amanda sighed, leaning her head against his arm. “Fine, lie to me all to me. But you still owe me a dance.”

He chuckled with a shake of his head as Moira truly fell out of sight. Fucking women and their whiles.

“Alright, dove. As long as Thomas doesn’t dock my pay.”

“I’ll tell him to give you a raise for treating his girl well.”

“Yeah, alright. Like that’ll ever happen.”


	3. Little Spy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little spy visits Bishop at work.

## Little Spy

“Psst.” **  
**

Bishop tried not to laugh as he kept his expression neutral.

“Psst.”

He looked out the corner of his eye to see a little blonde head peeking around the door. The door had been closed five minutes ago. But every few seconds, it would inch open. He should be pissed he was being interrupted - and he would have been had it been anyone else, he would have been.

But not her. Never her.

“Psst.”

Covering his chuckle with a cough, Bishop put down his tablet and looked over at the door. Big round eyes stared back at him, followed by a wide grin.

“What are you up to, sprite?”

“Shhhhhhhhh.” Izzy looked behind her. “I’m a spy, Bissop!”

“A spy, hm?” He raised an eyebrow.

Izzy gave one last look behind her before inching around the door and into the office. “Mhmm, like you.”

“Like me?”

“Cuz you’re a spy!” She rolled her eyes. “Mumma said so.”

He had a feeling Moira didn’t quite say that, but he wouldn’t crush the girl’s imagination. “You have to keep that a secret tho, Iz. No one can know that I’m a spy.”

Her eyes grew even wider. “I pwomise!”

Pushing back from his desk, Izzy was already around the desk before he could even motion her over. Her arms held up and he didn’t hesitate to sweep her up onto his lap. It was easier most times to indulge her. She was old enough now that she just sat there, content on colouring and coming up with her imaginative stories.

“Here you go, sprite.” He pulled out the colouring book he kept in his desk, just for times like this. He would deny it, however, if anyone asked.

Izzy grinned at him before going to work on her book, content on colouring in the princess shapes before turning the page over and making her own figures on the back.

“It’s you!” She pointed at her drawing. “And me.” She drew a third figure. “Mumma.” Her eyebrows crinkled as she tried to draw - well, he wasn’t quite sure what it was other than a blog. “Rook.”

“It’s great Izzy,” he praised, keeping a hold on her on one leg while he worked on his tablet with his other hand.

“It’s yours.” She tried to rip the page free. “Bissop can you help?”

“Why don’t you keep it, Iz. Give it to your mum.”

“Nooooooooo” She shook her head, her hair going flying. “Yours! You can hang it up.” She pointed to a wall.

“Alright.” He carefully pulled the image free. “But you know, this might be better at home. Where Rook can see it.”

“Oh!” She nods. “Rook will want it too!”

Bishop reached over and put the drawing by his bag.

“Is my little spy in here?” Moira peeked her head into the office.

“I’m here, Mumma!” Izzy wiggled on Bishop’s lap until she was sliding to the ground and running over to Moira. “I’m a spy just like Bissop!”

“You are.” Moira puts a hand on the top of Izzy’s head affectionately as she looked up at Bishop with a twinkle in her eye. “A great spy, just like Bishop.”

“I’m gonna go spy on Uncle Thomas!” Izzy was already out the door.

Moira chuckled as she stepped into the hallway, watching as Izzy ran down the hallway to Thomas’ office. Amanda was out front and was already pulling out a lollipop she always had at the ready for Izzy. Catching her eye, Amanda winked and nodded, letting Moira know she had her.

“I’m a spy now,” Bishop commented.

“Izzy and her imagination,” Moira laughed.

“Better than the truth.” He shrugged. “Less horrifying.”

Moira’s expression softened. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“Rather her think that than what I really am.”

“A kind, decent man?”

Bishop snorted. “Don’t kid yourself, Moira.”

“Sorry, you’re a grumpy old bulldog.”

“I’m not grumpy or old.”

“You’re the grumpiest person I know.” Moira grinned. “It’s cute though. You’re like a grumpy puppy.”

His mouth fell open. “A puppy!”

“But a bulldog puppy,” she insisted. “Elliot  _puppy bulldog_  Bishop.”

Before he could retort, Izzy came running back into the room.

“Uncle Thomas said I was the bestest spy!” she announced with pride.

Moira shot Bishop a grin before kneeling down next to her daughter. “Did he now?”

“Mhmm! I said Bissop was though. Cuz he is.”

“I think so too.” The grin only grew on her face. “Ready to go home?”

“Can Bissop come too?” Izzy begged. “Pweeeeeeeease.”

“Bishop has to work, sweetheart.”

“Cuz he’s a spy?”

“Because he’s a spy.” Moira nodded. “Go say bye and then we’ll go.”

“Kay!” Izzy ran around around the desk and threw herself around Bishop’s legs. “Bye Bissop! Have fun spying!”

“You too, little spy, you too.”


	4. Rook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas discovers a surprise in Bishop’s office.

## Rook

Bishop sighed when he felt the small body brushing across his legs. “Rook, gotta settle down.”

A nose bumped against his calf and Bishop supplied a hand to the puppy to sniff and lick. After a few scratches behind the ears, Rook settled back down at his feet under the desk. Bishop glanced down at him, waiting a moment before returning to work.

“I don’t think this deal is going to work. I’m not impressed with their distribution plans.” Thomas came waltzing into the office, not looking up from the tablet in his hands.

Bishop stifled a groan when he felt Rook’s body start to shake, a low growl growing.

“The columbians are idiots. Why did we -” Thomas paused, his chin lifting. “What was that?”

“What was what, sir?” Bishop’s hand tried to soothe Rook.

Thomas’ eyes narrowed. “Growling. Where is that growling coming from?”

“Growling?” Bishop raised an eyebrow. “I don’t hear anything. Have you eaten?”

“Fuck off, that’s not my stomach.” Thomas took another step forward. “That sounds like a…a..”

Bishop cursed under his breath as he felt Rook pushing against his legs in his attempt to free himself from the desk. When Rook barked in annoyance, Bishop sighed and risked a glance up at Thomas.

“Is that a DOG in my OFFICE?”

“No.”

Rook’s head made it around Bishop’s leg and poked around the corner. His ears were pinned back as his growl turned low and menacing for a puppy.

“That looks like a dog.”

“Are you high sir?”

Thomas glared. “What the hell is a dog doing here, Bishop?”

“Not a clue, sir. I’m shocked.”

Rook continued to growl as he wedged himself out from under the desk. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Bishop sighed and called him back to his side. “Rook, here.”

Rook, however, didn’t adhere to the command, instead sizing up the threat.

“That THING has a name!”

“It needed one if he was going to learn commands.”

“Going to learn - Bishop, you brought a DOG to my OFFICE.”

Bishop shrugged. “He was having separation anxiety. I’ve been told it’s usual for rescues.”

“THERE’S A DOG IN MY OFFICE.”

“To be fair, this is my office. Yours is down the hall.”

“You’re fired.”

“Bloody finally, sir, I thought you’d never ask.”

Thomas was seething as he took up pacing, throwing glares at the growling dog every few seconds. “When the hell did you get a dog anyways? And would you tell that thing to stop growling at me?”

Bishop put a hand on Rook’s head. “He’s protective.”

“He’s a vicious little thing. I didn’t even know you liked dogs.”

“Didn’t plan on it happening.”

Thomas stared at him before down at Rook. “He hasn’t gotten any friends hiding in the drawers has he?”

“Just him.”

Thomas pulled a face. “He doesn’t leave this office.”

A smirk slid across Bishop’s face. “So he’ll live here then.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Can he get a sign on the door.”

“I swear to god, Bishop.”

“Uh oh, someone’s in trouble.” A sweet voice wafted into the room.

Both turned to find Moira standing in the doorway.

“Sorry to interrupt, I’ve got that file you wanted to - Oh you brought Rook back!” Moira’s eyes brightened as she saw the little puppy.

The growling instantly stopped as Rook recognized her, his tongue hanging out as he shuffled until he freed himself around the desk and barreled into Moira’s legs.

“Aren’t you the sweetest?” she giggled, kneeling down and scratching behind his ears. When he turned in a circle before lying on his back, she laughed and gave him the belly rubs he demanded.

“YOU knew about this…this…this thing!”

Moira raised an eyebrow as she looked over at Thomas. “Oh about Rook? I met this little guy last week when Elliot brought him in.”

Thomas gaped. “How LONG has this been going on.”

Bishop rubbed the back of his neck. “Three weeks?”

“THREE WEEKS!”

“He’s gotten so big already.” Moira was in awe.

“And has become more of a softie.” Bishop shook his head. “You’re supposed to be a guard dog, Rook.”

Thomas glared at them all. “He growled at me.”

“Aren’t his puppy growls the cutest?” Moira sighed. “I got a full minute of them before he turned into a big softie.”

Knowing he was being talked about, Rook popped up onto his feet and looked around at them all. When he spotted Thomas, he lowered to the ground and his growls once again started. Moira giggled as she watched Thomas’ expression.

“That thing is a menace and I want it on record that I don’t like him being here.”

“Duly noted.”

“Three goddamn weeks,” Thomas muttered as he turned and walked from the room. “In MY office!”

Moira laughed as Rook gave one last bark at Thomas’ retreating back before nudging her for more pets.

“Think he’ll follow through and fire me?”

“Oh you wish.” Moira grinned at him.

“Every day.” Bishop sighed dramatically.


End file.
